No Other Recourse
by Miss Pseudonymous
Summary: "Darcy, you must come to Lady Susan's tonight," his cousin Richard said, pulling him aside at White's. "Apparently she has acquired a rare prime article, fresh from the country. An innocent of genteel birth." "Poor girl," said Darcy, though his eyes registered mild interest. "What misfortunes must have brought her to this pass."
1. Chapter 1

"Darcy, you must come to Lady Susan's tonight," his cousin Richard said, pulling him aside at White's. "Apparently she has acquired a rare prime article, fresh from the country. An innocent of genteel birth."

"Poor girl," said Darcy, though his eyes registered mild interest. "What misfortunes must have brought her to this pass. She is not too young, is she?"

"Oh no," Richard reassured him, "Nearly arrived at her majority."

"And still an innocent?" Darcy's eyebrows rose. "She must indeed be of gentle birth. Whose hands will she fall into, I wonder?"

"She could fall into yours, if you bid high enough," encouraged Richard. "It would be a good sight better than if old Fotherby got her, as he means to do."

"Fotherby?" Darcy exclaimed, his features contorted in disgust. "That vile, ancient court card? With his habits and proclivities, she'll be fit for nothing after a month of his attentions. If she doesn't throw herself into the Thames to avoid that fate."

"Clearly then, it is your obligation to save the poor damsel. Lord knows you're the only one who could outbid him."

"It's only her virginity that's up for offer," Darcy pointed out. "After that she must take anything that comes to her. Though unlikely she will meet anyone of a lower station than hers at Lady Susan's."

"Aren't you full of solicitude for an unknown girl," Richard teased. "I wonder if you mean to bid for her after all?"

"If you're after securing her a better introduction to harlotry than Fotherby, I'm not sure I'm the Prince Charming for it. You want a sensitive, gentle man to do the job. Someone like yourself, Richard."

"Unfortunately, I lack the resources for such a noble, disinterested act of salvation."

"Are you suggesting I spend my blunt buying you a bit of muslin for an evening? Is that what this was all about?"

Richard grinned. "And you came to it all on your own, too! I declare, I am destined for Tactical Strategy and a General's stripes at least."

Darcy knit his brows, frowning. "At the very least, do come with me, old man," his cousin encouraged. "It will be amusing watching the pack salivating over a pretty fresh piece."

Darcy sighed. "I'll come with you. Though I've a premonition it won't end well."

* * *

A charming young woman with a dimpled smile and a suggestive décolletage let the men into Lady Susan's townhouse. Tastefully furnished, it looked little different than any town home of quality, and though a few streets removed from the strictly fashionable sector, was not in a neighborhood that was wholly contemptible. It was as common for any of its male occupants to greet each other at their clubs as it was for them to meet at Lady Susan's, though perhaps they wouldn't speak of it as readily outside its richly-appointed walls.

Darcy and Richard followed the beautiful little whore into a sitting room where quite a few men were already gathered. Clearly word had spread.

"Why, Darcy, what brings you?" Called Lord Branson. "It must be a twelvemonth since I've last seen you here. Has Susan's communication sufficiently intrigued you to finally shake you out of your uncharacteristic celibacy?"

Darcy smiled at his friend. "I'm here to watch the sport, Bran, not take part in it."

"Ah, yes," Branson nodded, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. "Let us first see how beautiful this new doxy is, and then we'll see how long you fare in the same room with a desirable object and the means to acquire it."

"I don't mean to be selfish, I assure you." Darcy said laughing.

They were interrupted by a plump blonde in a lace overdress, the slip of which she seemed to have forgotten to don beneath it, together with her chemise. She proffered a tray of champagne flutes and fluttered her eyelashes at the men. "Here to view the new wares, are we, gentlemen? And forgotten all about us girls, your favorites?" She pouted prettily.

"Now now, Rose," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, encircling her about the waste and taking the last flute from her tray. "What's all this? Jealous of your new sister? She must be a beauty of the highest order to inspire you with even the smallest insecurity about your as-yet-unsurpassed charms!"

She looked up at him coyly, laughing, "Indeed, I am not jealous of her, though she is certainly pretty. It is her power - that she can draw all of you here with the mere hint of her presence!"

"But surely you once drew the men in a similar way when you first came to be here?" Lord Branson said, thinking to reassure her. "It is merely the novelty, not her charms, of which we have as yet heard nothing."

"No, I never made a splashing debut," said Rose, a trifle subdued. "I came down to London a ruined woman, one of many seeking asylum from the streets. Eliza is an innocent, a truly rare thing in a house such as this. And genteel too - her father was a gentleman! She will fetch a considerable price, I am sure. I would hate her for it, though I cannot, for she is so kind and good to everyone."

Darcy's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the girl's name. "Poor girl!" He could not bear to repeat the name, her name, not in a house such as this. If she could see me now, he thought, how justified would she feel were all her animadversions on my character. "What brought a gently bred young woman to such a pass?"

"Well, I can't tell you exactly," Rose shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "I can't keep the story straight, and she can't tell it straight through without crying. But it involves someone's ruin - not her own - and an untimely death, I believe. More I cannot tell you."

"Had she no other recourse?" Asked Darcy gently. "No family, no connections to assist her in their time of need?"

"There certainly were once. I've no notion what happened to them. Oh, yes! She'd had several marriage proposals, and refused them! That was before she knew just how much she would regret not settling for security. Wouldn't sacrifice her belief that she would only marry for love! And now look at her," Rose sneered, "offering that love to many men, and no hope for marriage!"

"Rose," Fitzwilliam chided her softly, "cruelty doesn't become you."

Rose blushed and turned away from the group. "Take a look at her before you decide in her favor!" she flung over her shoulder.

"Jealous cat," Richard smiled, amused.

"I confess I am anxious to see this rare piece of innocence," said Brandon. "Can you conceive teaching such a girl about love, being the first man who ever touched her? And gently born - it is just what you'd experience in marriage - an excellent trial, if you will. Yes, she'll fetch a good price."

"I just pray Fotherby doesn't get her," scowled Darcy, "She seems to have had enough misfortunes in her life that she should at least be spared that!"

They looked over to where Fotherby stood, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet, eyes shining with anticipation. His heavily corseted coat did nothing to obscure his girth, and though thankfully he no longer used paint on his face to complement the ancient styles he persisted in wearing, his sallow skin and bulbous nose may have benefited from it.

The men were spared further contemplation on the unpleasantness of the man's person and habits by the entrance into the room of the proprietress.

"Welcome, gentlemen," Lady Susan murmured, "please be seated. If you are all ready...?" She walked among the company, greeting her guests, disposing them onto chairs and couches, and shrewdly assessing her audience while appearing to be nothing more than a solicitous hostess.

After seeing her patrons comfortably seated, she took up a standing position at the back of the room, the better to oversee events and gauge reactions. She was therefore in an ideal position to witness the forthcoming scene, which was talked of for months to come.

At the appointed moment, the door was opened by two girls in servant dress, and a young woman passed into the room. Her bearing was elegant, her dress refined, her hair exquisitely arranged. Her eyes were cast down at first, the blush on her cheeks testament to the mortification attached to her present position. But at length she lifted her eyes, and while most of the assembled were charmed by the bright resolve in them, two men at least were struck dumb, before springing to their feet.

When her eyes lit upon Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam advancing towards her, the color drained from the young lady's face. It was Elizabeth Bennet.

* * *

_Author's Note: I've got the next 1000 words written but nothing beyond that - I actually have NO idea how this story should proceed. We embark, my friends, upon a collaboration! You supply the plot, I supply the story. Thoughts, ideas, plot bunnies - in the comments, if you please :)  
_

_Ordinary constructive criticism is welcome, as are encomiums and accolades, as usual._


	2. Chapter 2

_I apologize for the furor created by the first chapter. Many of you are astonished and disgusted to find our protagonists in these circumstances. I share your disquiet, but I stand by the premise. It was completely acceptable for a gentleman to visit such places, and as much as we'd like to believe that Darcy came to Elizabeth completely pure, at age 28 it's just highly improbable. As for Elizabeth, of COURSE the woman we know would never find herself in such a situation, having so many other resources upon which to fall back ... but of course this story, to be realistic, will have to eliminate all those other possible sources of salvation, to put her in a really untenable position to which there is, as the title states, No Other Recourse. _

_Flame on in the comments, dear readers. Or suggest plot points. I don't have much written after this chapter, and can take the story in any direction that strikes our collective fancy._

* * *

Darcy advanced towards Elizabeth with determined strides in a fashion that belied the confusion of his thoughts. She blanched and took a step back, feeling faint, all previous resolve forgotten. Darcy grasped her by the arm, as much to support her in her obvious and sudden weakness as to turn her away from the company before they could get a real look at her.

"Mr. Darcy!" she gasped, staring at him in horror.

"Miss -" he began, then, noticing her alarmed expression, amended his speech. "What are you doing here? Your family...?"

Richard took up a position facing the room, shielding the couple from their eyes with his broad back, and drowning out their exchange by throwing a promising conversational gambit into the crowd.

Forcefully composing herself, Elizabeth swallowed, whispering, "Please, Mr. Darcy, I cannot explain it to you, not here. I must do this. Believe me I have no other recourse, or I should never be here! Please," she repeated, trying fruitlessly to disengage her arm, "Let me go, we are making a scene, you will spoil my chances at -" she blushed, looked away, and was silent.

"It is very much my intention to spoil your chances here!" he growled. "What can you be thinking? You must leave at once!"

Her eyes flashed at this, and she pulled her arm away forcefully. "Don't you dare to lecture me!" She bit out. "You know nothing of the circumstances! If I leave, I and all my family go to the streets! Do not presume to dictate in what manner I must act! You -"

"Shhh," his face and voice softened, comforting her. "I am grieved to hear this, shocked. But let me take you away from here, let me solve your problems, without your having to stoop to such unnecessary degradation!"

She gave half a sob at this, "I see your elegance of address has not left you, Mr. Darcy! How very tactful of you to mention my degradation, to describe my behavior as stooping! But it is of small importance!"

"Stop ripping up at me!" He reclaimed her arm, "You must make allowances for my state, seeing you of all people, here of all places! When I had begged you to marry me! Is this place preferable to you then? Am I so repugnant to you that you prefer a string of unknown men to a life of security as my wife?"

"Oh, how I hate you!" Elizabeth fairly shook with emotion. "What you must think of me! Do you think any consideration but the most dire straits would tempt me to consider offering my reputation to an audience of depraved men, of whom, I may add, I never expected you to be a member!"

Darcy set his lips in a grim line. "We shall see what you think of my depravity," he said coldly, releasing her and walking back and resuming his position against the wall. Instantly the room quieted, looking from him, propped with one shoulder against the wall, to her, still standing with her back to the room as he had left her.

After a long moment, Elizabeth turned, back straight, hands clasped together in front of her. "Excuse me, gentlemen." Her voice shook only a little. "I seem to have made more of an entrance than I had hoped for." She smiled, her eyes bright, with mirth or tears it was impossible for most of the onlookers to guess.

"Well, gentlemen," Lady Susan floated forward and began walking Elizabeth about the room, "here is our darling Lucy, a most welcome edition to our house. Mr. Ravenscar, my Lord Shelbourn, Sir Gareth - Lucinda."

Elizabeth curtsied to each man in turn, exchanged a few words, withstood lustful eyes raking over her body, but remained as cordial and composed as ever she was in a Meryton drawing room. Finally she was escorted to the piano, and over the sounds of her delicate playing, above the sounds of which it was assumed she would be spared much of the conversation, the transactions commenced.

As expected, Lord Fotherby led by stating none too discreetly, "I will match any price you are offered for her, Lady Susan! A cozier armful I could not have hoped for! And accomplished into the bargain! Well done, my dear!"

Elizabeth swallowed, grateful she was not required to sing lest she disgrace herself by displaying the terror closing over her heart.

She was at once relieved, as the assembly was shocked, to hear Darcy's voice raised above the old man's. "You shall have to offer a very great deal to outbid me, Fotherby. For I am not leaving here without her." His arms were crossed, his voice hard as steel, and a militant look lit his eyes as he gazed in challenge at his rival.

"Oho!" Exclaimed Fotherby, though he began to know some disquiet. "A challenge! How much more delicious will it render eventual triumph!"

"Unfortunately, you will not have the felicity of discovering the truth of that prediction." He turned and looked straight at Lady Susan. "I offer one hundred pounds."

The assembly gasped. So much for a starting bid! It was unheard of.

"If you hope to scare me, you young pup, you are quite beside the point!" Crowed Fotherby. "I extend two hundred!"

Darcy remained unmoved. "Three."

"Four!" Shouted Fotherby, his face growing red.

Elizabeth had stopped all pretense of playing at this stage, and could only follow the exchange with a mixture of sick dread and desperate apprehension.

Mr, Darcy lowered his arms and dug his hands into his pockets. Sauntering slowly over to Fotherby, he stood looking down at him from his superior height, and said simply, "One thousand pounds."

The room devolved into an uproar, men jumping out of their seats, exclaiming, not believing the testimony of their own ears.

Fotherby was defeated. He observed Darcy with distaste. "Well, if you will be flat barking mad, I'll not stop you. But curse whatever impulse brought you here tonight!" And avoiding even the speaking look which a voluptuous whore threw in his direction on his way out, Lord Fotherby hobbled angrily out of the house.

Darcy turned with a smile to Lady Susan. Handing her a roll of bills, he murmured, "You may expect the rest tomorrow." And walking towards a frightened Elizabeth, he drew her gently up from the piano bench, and escorted her from the room.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I hope this chapter fully explains Elizabeth's predicament and satisfies the naysayers who refuse to believe that she would be found in such a position under any circumstances. And for those who supported me in this improbable premise - I hope this chapter justifies your faith in me. It is written for you._

* * *

_Recap: The previous chapter ended thusly:  
_

_Darcy turned with a smile to Lady Susan. Handing her a roll of bills, he murmured, "You may expect the rest tomorrow." And walking towards a frightened Elizabeth, he drew her gently up from the piano bench, and escorted her from the room._

* * *

In a daze, Elizabeth walked the only path her legs could remember to take on their own, and ended up, predictably, at the door to her own bedchamber. She halted in front of this natural barrier, having never before had a man enter her private boudoir. She looked up questioningly at Darcy, who did not hesitate to grasp the door handle and, one hand coming up to rest gently but firmly on her lower back, lead Elizabeth into the room.

Shutting the door firmly behind him, he led Elizabeth, who seemed to have lost all powers of speech and understanding, to a chaise placed in front of a lit fire. The entire time, her eyes remained firmly fixed on his face, not wavering even while sinking onto the rich upholstery as though her legs could no longer hold her. He took up a standing position in front of her, arms behind his back, gazing down at her sternly.

"Well?" He demanded.

She simply stared at him, not comprehending, as if looking at a vision, or an unexpected curiosity. He bent down to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, and tried in a softer tone, "Miss Bennet?"

The physical contact and sudden transition into gentleness startled her out of her daze. All at once the humiliation of her position, the horror of meeting him here, of all places, that _he _should be privy to her shame, the strain of the past months which resulted in her presence there, the entirety of her situation suddenly overwhelmed her completely, crashing over her and engulfing her in utter exhaustion.

She gave one great sob and dissolved into hysterical tears. Desperate, wracking sobs poured from her unbidden, impossible to control. She was unaware that Darcy had immediately knelt in front of her and taken her into his arms, holding her as the cries shook and seized her. She was bracing herself with her hands against his upper arms, unaware that she was doing so, her body involuntarily reaching out to find stability and purchase wherever it may.

When she surfaced some time later, the sobs had receded, and she lay shuddering against Darcy's chest, she began to notice his hands, gently supporting her, stroking her hair, and whispering sweet consolations in her ear. Immediately she moved to disengage herself, and reluctantly Darcy relinquished her.

"I am so sorry," she sniffed, accepting his handkerchief, "I'm sure that's not at all what you brought me here for."

"No," he admitted, "I did not. But if you mean to imply that I brought you here for any other purpose than to have private conversation with you, then you are mistaken."

Elizabeth blushed. "One thousand pounds for a private conversation is steep indeed. What do you wish to discuss?"

Darcy frowned. "You know very well why I was willing to get you out of there at any price. Had you left the room with any other man, your reputation and future would have been irrevocably ruined."

"They are ruined already!" exclaimed Elizabeth.

"We'll see to that presently." He took her hand gently in his own. "Will you tell me now, please, how it is that you come to be here?"

Elizabeth sighed and looked away. "I suppose I must." She rose and walked to the window, and he watched the elegant shape of her figure, admired the finesse of her posture and grace. "It began when I was in Lambton, near Pemberley, last August."

"Yes," Darcy's voice was lowered. "I came to call upon you at the inn that morning, only to hear that you had gone, leaving no note or message of explanation. You cannot wonder at my confusion and disappointment."

"No," she said, "And I do apologize. But you will understand when I tell you that all thought of anything but the immediate crisis instantly flew from my mind." She turned toward him, and he was struck with the wistful, grieving look on her face. "I received a letter that morning from my sister Jane. Our youngest sister, Lydia, who had been staying with Colonel Foster and his wife in Brighton had run away with an officer. It was Mr. Wickham. I knew exactly what he was, thanks to your confidences of the previous April, and my aunt and uncle and I set off at once to help my father search for her. I remember being so very much relieved that you knew nothing about it. I thought if it could all be settled without a scandal, you need never know, and perhaps might even be brought presently to renew your addresses."

Darcy started. "Did you wish me to renew my addresses?"

She blushed. "That previous day at Pemberley, with your sister, was so lovely, that I admit I had wondered, had hoped…"

He sprang up, involuntarily moving to take her into his arms, but checked himself just before reaching her. "Did you know," he said, smiling sadly down at her, "I was coming with that very intention that morning? Only to find that you had gone."

"Oh!" she looked up at him, smiling, "Were you? Oh, if I had known, the recollection of that could have kept me happy throughout the ensuing troubles!"

"Tell me about them," he coaxed, taking her hands and leading her back to the settee.

She complied, sitting down and facing him, seated close beside her, holding her hands, looking earnestly, searchingly into her face. She shivered. Whether from her chilling recollections or the actual temperature of the room, he knew not, but fetched a shawl from a nearby armchair and disposed it around her shoulders. She held it tightly around herself, and continued her story.

"My father, my uncle, and Colonel Foster, who thought himself to blame, searched for Lydia for weeks, to no avail. My father wore himself ragged, barely ate or slept, withering away in his frantic guilt. In October the wet weather took what little life he had away from him. He caught a chill, which in his weakened state developed into pneumonia, and claimed him within the week."

Elizabeth dashed a tear away. Darcy squeezed her hand. "I'm so terribly sorry. Your father was a good man. I know he loved you very much."

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled, "he did. He vowed over and over again that when he found Lydia he would apply himself to remedying the carelessness and neglect with which he had been used to treating his daughters, and would provide better for them. But he never did get the chance. And as for providing for them – he left five women with five thousand pounds between them, and no home."

Darcy knitted his brow. "Five thousand is a considerable sum of money. Surely the interest could have kept you comfortably at Longbourne, with some economies…?"

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, "it would have. But then in late October we received a missive from Wickham, demanding payment for Lydia's safe return – and that of her unborn child." Darcy drew in a breath.

"A note from Lydia was enclosed. She was miserable. She realized not long after running away with him that he had no plans to marry her, but was so lovelorn she would have stayed with him regardless. But then he grew cruel, and displayed dissolute tendencies that even she in her youth and folly realized were beyond the line, and finally she resolved to leave him. But he would not allow it, and persecuted her, and dominated her until the idea came to her to tell him of my mother's five thousand pounds.

"She wrote to beg for forgiveness, but promising that if we did indeed buy her release, she would spend the rest of her days making up for her wickedness. You can imagine my mother's reaction to reading her favorite daughter's impassioned pleas. Despite all of our vociferous objections, she wrote immediately to her solicitor, and had all her money withdrawn from the five per cents. She begged my Uncle Gardiner to deliver the money to Wickham at the appointed time and place, hiding the enormity of the transaction from him, as she knew he would refuse if he knew the whole.

"My uncle was canny however, and peeked into the package before delivering it. He alerted Bow Street and set out to meet Wickham with a Runner in civilian clothing not far behind, but Wickham was more desperate than he knew. He discovered the deception and had brought a pistol along for … persuasion, we imagine, but in the commotion that developed, the gun was fired…" Her voice wavered a bit, but she steadied it and continued. "Wickham escaped with the money. The Bow Street Runner suffered some injuries, but my uncle was grievously hurt. The wound to his brain was severe, and left him unable to work, or even to reason. My aunt has removed to Lambton to take care of him, and lives on the charity of the parish."

"My God," breathed Darcy. "I am grieved indeed. Grieved, shocked. I can not imagine what you suffered. And of Lydia…?"

Elizabeth's lip trembled and her eyes filled gain with tears. "We never heard from her again. We haven't the remotest idea where she might be… or even if she lives."

Darcy could no longer restrain himself from comforting her. He reached out and enveloped her in his arms. She held her head against his shoulder and clung to him gratefully. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the warmth and solidity of the man she loved, and continued her story. "Mr. Collins understandably wanted what remained of our family removed from Longbourne immediately, lest his patroness suspect him of condoning sordid behavior. Oh," she said, looking up. "Forgive me. I recollect she is your aunt."

Darcy grimaced. "Pray do not recollect it. I wish the connection were more distant."

Elizabeth smiled. "In any event, she never did learn of it. Everything was covered up admirably – Lydia was said to have been married in London under her father's eye, and was travelling on the continent with her husband. My uncle had suffered a seizure and was gone into the country to recover."

She leaned back into his broad shoulder and looked down at her hand, fiddling with a button of his waistcoat, as she continued. "My mother and sisters and I then removed to my aunt Phillips in Meryton, where we lived very simply, very cramped, and very unhappy. We would have continued just like that, but a month ago Lady Susan came to call. She passed herself off as a friend of Mrs. Gardiners, travelling through Hertfordshire and charged with a message for us, but then revealed her true purpose.

"It appears that my uncle Phillips, unbeknownst to us, was not as affluent and able to support us as we had thought. He had need to borrow significant sums to keep us all housed and fed, and more than that. His pride would not allow him to reveal just how straitened his circumstances were. He supported us in the style to which we had been accustomed at Longbourne – with servants, and all the comforts of life. But he was falling heavily into debt, the interest accruing at alarming rates. Lady Susan, it appears, makes it her business to buy up debts such as these – debts of people with beautiful young female relations. She had her eye on Jane, and bought enough of my uncle's debts to send him to the poorhouse if she so chose.

"She was not explicit – she could hardly be so in a respectable woman's parlor – but I grasped her meaning before the others did, and contrived to get her alone. I took her on a walk, during which she explained the extent of her shameful intentions. I begged her to take me instead – I knew, and convinced her, that Jane would wither away and be a lost investment if forced into a life like this – but that I was stronger in mind and body, would not resist, and would earn her more money than she needed to justify her expense and trouble. I arranged it all so that none of my family knew. I said Lady Susan had come to inform us of an available position to be had in London, that of a lady's companion to an elderly gentlewoman. It sounded perfectly respectable, and they allowed me to go with her.

Elizabeth sat back and searched his face, searching for understanding, for forgiveness, for love. "I arrived less than a week ago, and have not stepped foot outside of this house, nor seen any but its inhabitants, until tonight." She found what she was looking for in his gaze, in his caress, and finally, in the feeling of his lips on hers. "That is my story."


	4. Chapter 4

_Recap: The previous chapter ended with Elizabeth recounting to Darcy the series of tragic events which led to her appearance at Lady Susan's:_

_Elizabeth sat back and searched his face, searching for understanding, for forgiveness, for love. "I arrived less than a week ago, and have not stepped foot outside of this house, nor seen any but its inhabitants, until tonight." She found what she was looking for in his gaze, in his caress, and finally, in the feeling of his lips on hers. "That is my story."_

* * *

The kiss started out as a tender impulse on Mr. Darcy's part to comfort and reassure the suffering woman in his arms, but when Elizabeth welcomed him so sweetly and clung to him so desperately, it quickly developed into something more. She grasped his broad, hard shoulders as a drowning woman clutching at salvation, and he responded, delivering that salvation and succor through his mouth and his hands, pressing her close and assaulting her mouth in violent desperation to make her feel, make her understand his complete devotion and desire to be one with her. He lowered one hand for a moment to slip beneath her thighs and lift her onto his lap, and she raised her arms to clasp them around his neck, responding to his kiss just as desperately, though less expertly, than his own.

This state of affairs couldn't last long. No virile young man can be satisfied with simple kisses, no matter how delicious and achingly long-awaited. Soon Elizabeth was holding on to him for stability alone, as Mr. Darcy's hands roamed her body, cradling her neck, threading through her hair, skimming the neckline of her dress, riding her skirts up to her thighs, stroking their silky smoothness, traveling higher and higher until...

The slow burn that began within her body when Darcy began his attentions had built to a tight coil, which this final contact jarred unexpectedly, and Elizabeth gasped against his mouth as her body gave an involuntary start. Brought thus rudely back to a sense of his actions, Darcy immediately pulled back, his breath ragged, his gaze repentant, and said, "Forgive me, Miss Bennet. I'm afraid I have shocked you."

Elizabeth gave a delighted laugh and dropped her eyes, though not her arms, and remained sitting shyly on his lap, encircled in his arms. "Indeed you have, Mr. Darcy. But," she looked up briefly and blushed, "It does not follow that the shock is unwelcome." She felt him hesitate, so she shyly brought her lips to his again for brief reassurance.

He bent back down to her mouth, but swiftly pulled away again, removing her arms from his shoulders and seating her again beside him. "It is unforgivable of me, Miss Bennet, and after I said I would importune you with nothing more than conversation..."

He looked at her so tenderly, his gaze roaming over every inch of her face, his eyes dark, and sad, and full of longing. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek, "You are so beautiful," he breathed. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes to savor the contact, and he used this position to draw her against his chest again. His mouth rested above her ear, and his words sent warmth through her body as she felt every word through the rumble in his chest. "You know how I loved you. Despite my firmest resolutions and the strictest disciplines, I found myself unable to forget you. The strongest, sweetest, best woman I have ever known. I thought your leaving that day in Lambton was your way of indicating your desire to sever the connection."

Elizabeth gave an indignant laugh, "How _could_ you think me so rude! To depart without taking our leave…!"

"A self-absorbed, lovesick fool doesn't think much beyond himself," said Mr. Darcy ruefully, "and will forgive the object of his affections anything. I threw myself into business affairs, fenced, boxed, and rode myself to exhaustion, but still, when I finally dropped, spent, into bed at night, my mind would only conjure up images of you. I awoke knowing I had dreamt of you, and spent the day energetically trying to dash the memories with mind-numbing work and bone-wearying exercise. Again and again, for months. And then tonight, when Richard suggested I accompany him -"

He stopped abruptly as she jerked herself out of his arms and sat back, looking at him with wild, pleading eyes. "Your being here tonight. You have not explained that. How do you explain your presence here? Do you .. Often... " her voice shook, "come to such places?"

Mr. Darcy hesitated, "No, for some time I ... " he blushed at her wounded, disappointed look, "Miss Elizabeth, surely you are too wise to the world to think a man of my age and station has never been to a house such as this? I am sorry for speaking so directly, but I would honor you with unpalatable honesty rather than insult you with pleasing disguise."

She nodded slowly, drawing a breath and composing her features. "Yes, I would prefer the truth, thank you."

He continued, gently, "As a young man I was introduced to such places by the more experienced gentlemen of my acquaintance, who had been out in society longer than I. It is a tradition of sorts, inducting fresh recruits into the mystery of the opposite sex. It is believed that such knowledge would inure them against the machinations of the debutantes and match-making mothers in the Ton. And it does in fact, do that very well, for reasons I won't explain to you now, but... I am not sure whether what was begun as a means of filling a void until marriage, has now become an institution that serves to enable the delay of that state until such time as a man decides to enter it, not until he falls into an inexperienced, ill-advised infatuation. I am not condoning the practice -" he quickly interjected when he saw her brows draw together and her lips compress - "merely seeking to exonerate those who find themselves within it without quite realizing how it came about."

"I see," she said slowly, though her voice and expression indicated that she did no such thing.

Not fooled but seemingly not perturbed, Mr. Darcy continued. "Whatever my experiences as a callow youth, I was fortunate in a way that many are not, though in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Losing my father at the age of twenty threw me into responsibilities I had not anticipated assuming for many more years. It sobered me and kept me too busy to indulge in the excesses that are perpetrated - and I should say socially accepted - by other men in my circle. So no, to answer your question, I do not visit places such as this often, nor have I for a considerable length of time."

"Then what brought you tonight?" She pressed, her eyes shining with unshed tears, trying desperately to free herself of the fierce and irrational jealousy and misery induced by his words.

He sighed. "Voyeurism and an idle thought that perhaps I should try to drown my implacable infatuation with a more willing, available quarry."

She shrank back at this. "You would have paid just the same for any girl Lady Susan brought out!" she accused.

"For 1000 pounds?" He grinned, "Not likely." He took her hands again and drew circles on their back with his thumbs. "Surely you won't reproach me for being so far gone in unrequited love for you that I considered an uncharacteristically desperate measure for a moment? A moment only, long enough to accompany my cousin here, but not long enough to last far beyond my setting foot in this distasteful place."

She blushed, acutely aware that he had discovered her in this distasteful place. "Not unrequited," she whispered.

He smiled and drew her hands into his lap. "Will you forgive me, my dear?"

Her heart skipped at this endearment. "I have no right to forgive or resent," she murmured, "but I appreciate the struggle you have been through and am sorry for it."

"But not understanding?"

"How can I understand, when I have never felt it myself, let alone an overwhelming compulsion. I'm not even certain I know what 'it' is!"

He grinned slowly. "I shall take great pleasure in teaching you. If your response to my kisses is anything to go by, you will enjoy what follows even more."

She drew back a little and cocked her head to the side. "What follows? But you said you do not intend -"

"Heavens, woman!" He laughed, "Not now!" He gathered her into his arms again and surveyed the room distastefully. "And certainly not here." He looked into her eyes and smiled, and she returned it, but hesitantly, for she did not yet understand his meaning.

"How will you get me away?" She asked.

This simple question served to sober up the ardent lover. His brows drew together and Elizabeth beheld once again the formidable gentleman that she had first seen entering the Assembly Rooms in Meryton the previous Autumn. His hands stilled and he assumed a faraway look as he pondered the problem in front of them.

Elizabeth took this opportunity to extricate herself, however reluctantly, from his weakened embrace, and set about gathering together her personal effects. She withdrew one of her own gowns from the clothespress, and was about to disappear behind a the screen to attempt to wriggle out of it on her own, when Mr. Darcy stopped her.

"What are you doing?" He had lost his blank look and was once more the confident, resolute master of every situation.

"I am changing into my own things." She indicated the thin, scant, and very enticing article of clothing that did little to obscure the many charms of her form. "This... dress... was given to me in this place, and I have no desire to ever see it again."

Darcy smiled. "I do, but I shall have another made for you, and others like it." He saw her expression falter, and thought to assuage her by adding, "If you agree, of course." She forced a smile and slipped behind the screen.

"Wait!" said Darcy. She came out again. "Before you remove that, we may need you to play your part for one moment more. The maid who answers that bell," he indicated the bell sash in the corner, "Can you trust her?"

"Oh no," said Elizabeth decidedly. "She is a nice girl, but fiercely loyal to Lady Susan. She will report anything unusual straight to her mistress - that is part of her duties as chambermaid - to keep an eye on the girls."

"Then we will need her to fetch us someone we _can_ trust. Is there such a person in this household?"

"Yes," replied Elizabeth after a moment's thought, "The second footman." At Darcy's raised eyebrows she added, "His father was a gentleman, married at the time of his birth to a woman who was not his mother. He commiserated with a disgraced gentlewoman."

"Yes," said Darcy drily, "I'm sure that was the extent of his interest."

"You need not be sarcastic, Sir!" Elizabeth began angrily, "Do you think I am unable to discern and deflect a man's attentions -?"

"Not at all," he interrupted her, caressing her cheek. "Only that you are unable to discern the extent of your own charms."

She softened and he continued, "How can we get this footman in here?"

Elizabeth bit her lip in thought. "I can summon the maid and say that you require a valet's assistance?"

"Excellent," Darcy walked over to pull the bell, but bethought himself something and returned, reaching out to Elizabeth. "If she will report on what she observes here, then we will have to convince her it is just what she expects."

Elizabeth only had time to register his meaning when she gasped at the feeling of his lips on her neck. As he kissed and bit the soft skin above her shoulder, his hands went to her hair and gently drew out the pins, brushing the long chocolate tresses with his fingers. He then brought one hand forward to skim along the hemline of her gown, nudging it lower and slipping the small capped sleeve off her shoulder, exposing the smooth skin of her clavicle and upper arm. He brought his mouth lower, and Elizabeth shuddered at the exquisite feeling of his lips and tongue at the top of her breast. She closed her eyes and grasped his shoulders to retain her balance. It was the most exhilarating experience she had ever felt, and she wanted him to continue, to explore further, lower, and was disappointed when he straightened and redirected his assault to her lips. Every other thought was forgotten as she opened herself to his attentions, stronger and more insistent than they had been before. She was wakened from this delirious state of ecstasy by a knock on the door. She opened her eyes to find that during his movements, Darcy had managed to pull the bell, and was now disappearing behind the changing screen.

Roused again from these observations by another knock, she called, "Enter," in an unexpectedly breathless voice. A maid opened the door and fought to keep an appreciative gleam out of her eyes as she took in Elizabeth's appearance. Elizabeth looked down to see what had so interested the girl, and saw her exposed bodice and shoulder carrying the marks of Mr. Darcy's ministrations, red marks, bite marks, all the way down to her barely concealed breasts. What she did not see was the disheveled state of her hair, her kiss-bruised lips, and the dark, aroused expression in her eyes.

"You rang, miss?" The maid prompted.

"Oh yes," Elizabeth breathed, "Would you be so kind as to fetch Jamie here? My companion requires a valet's assistance."

The maid raised her brows, "Then would he not rather Robert come up? He it is that usually shaves the gentlemen and such."

Elizabeth knew some fear at this unexpected difficulty, but trying to keep her voice steady and the maid unsuspicious, she said with all the appearance of nonchalance, "No, he expressly asked for Jamie. It appears they have had some dealings before..."

The maid narrowed her eyes in thought, but curtsied and left the room.

"Splendid," exclaimed Mr. Darcy, coming out from behind the screen as soon as the door closed behind the servant girl. "You handled that unexpected objection beautifully. Was she suitably convinced, do you think?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth with a nervous smile, "but did you have to maul me for the effect!"

"My poor darling," he laughed, taking her chin in his hand, "Did you dislike it _very_ much?"

Elizabeth blushed and laughed, and pulling her clothing together looked around for her hair pins.

The firm knock came as she was pinning the last of her curls about her head. She turned from the mirror to see Darcy opening the door to a stony-faced Jamie, whose brows drew together angrily upon perceiving the handsome gentleman he had been summoned to serve.

"You called for me, Sir?" he said as icily as a servant could dare without risking instant dismissal.

"Good God, boy," said an amused Darcy, closing the door behind him, "Don't look daggers at me! I'm not ruining her, I'm saving her! And I need your help to do it."

Jamie's eyes sought Elizabeth's and his expression relaxed at her encouraging nod, but then he looked lower and scowled.

"Aah, yes," said Darcy, rubbing the back of his neck, "appearances, you know - no wish to alert the maid to our true purpose -"

"Certainly, Sir," said Jamie stoically, but observing Elizabeth's expression as she gazed at Darcy, he knew he had lost the object of his affections.

"Enough of that," Darcy was matter-of-fact again. "Can you contrive to get a note to my cousin downstairs? He may be in the drawing room, or he may be," he lowered his voice, glancing back at Elizabeth, "more agreeably engaged, but I need you to find him and slip a note into his hand. Can you do it?"

The footman didn't hesitate. "For Miss Elizabeth, I can do anything."

Elizabeth turned away and blushed as Darcy pulled open drawers looking for paper and pen. He found it, and writing just a few words, folded it and handed it to Jamie, describing his cousin as minutely as possible. " Quick now," warned Darcy, "as quickly as possible without arousing suspicion."

"Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir." And he was gone.

Elizabeth turned to Darcy, "If your cousin is to join us, I would like to be wearing something a little more presentable."

"I would be honored," said Darcy, crossing the room towards her with his hands in his pockets and a languorous smile on his face, "to assist you in that endeavor."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. At least it was long, right?_

_Is anybody getting my references, by the way? The names, for example? P&amp;P quotes? :)_

_Thanks to all the reviewers. I do this for you!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Recap: The previous chapter ended with Darcy sending a servant to fetch Colonel Fitzwilliam:_

_Elizabeth turned to Darcy, "If your cousin is to join us, I would like to be wearing something a little more presentable."_

"_I would be honored," said Darcy, crossing the room towards her with his hands in his pockets and a languorous smile on his face, "to assist you in that endeavor."_

* * *

Richard Fitzwilliam entered the room cautiously, with an expression of curiosity on a face that could not wholly abandon its confirmed air of authority. He raised his eyebrows when the footman entered behind him and shut the door.

"That's all right, Richard," said Darcy, coming towards him, "Jaime is our agent in this deception. He is loyal to Miss Elizabeth and can be fully trusted."

Richard hesitated, but came forward and took Elizabeth's hand just as he might have done in her own drawing room. "Miss Bennet, I am very sorry for the circumstances which bring us together, but very pleased to see that you are nonetheless looking very well."

His discomfort in the meeting found expression in the slightest wavering of his voice and demeanor, but even this was apparent only to his cousin, who was so well acquainted with him as to detect the slightest inconsistency in his behavior. Elizabeth's discomfort, however, was obvious in her blushes and stammers, and beseeching looks to Darcy in mute application for his nearness and security.

Though speaking lightly, the Colonel's shrewd glance took in every detail of her appearance and her surroundings. Much like Jaime's before him, his eyes hesitated for a moment on a disheveled curl laying atop a vivid red mark on her shoulder, before turning to Darcy in question.

Darcy's mouth quirked into a smile as he strode forward, and pouring a drink from the side cabinet, placed the tumbler into his cousin's hand. "So," he began, when the Colonel was comfortably seated. "We have before us a challenge."

Colonel Fitzwilliam swirled the liquor in his glass. "Surely it can't be too difficult to spirit a woman out of here. With Jaime's help, it wouldn't even count as an adventure."

"No," Darcy agreed, "Leaving the house is no great challenge. It is where we go thereafter which is the main question. Miss Bennet has no one in London, and she can't very well stop at my house."

"Whyever not?" The men turned toward Elizabeth. They had forgotten her presence for a moment and seemed to think they would carry on the conversation without her. "I haven't any reputation to maintain. And no one who is anyone would want to know me anyway. More so now than ever."

"Yes," said Darcy, "that brings us to the chief difficulty - executing the maneuver in a manner that preserves Miss Bennet's anonymity and reputation."

Veteran of long odds as he was, still Richard raised his brows at this. "Do you think there is even a chance that this can be accomplished?"

"There must be. There shall be."

At this juncture Elizabeth found herself unable to make sense of the conversation, and leaving the gentlemen to their mad schemes, which seemed to her as impossible as they were fantastical, she made her way to a comfortable armchair. Assuming a position that would allow her to maintain a direct view of Mr. Darcy, she leaned her head slightly against the high back of the chair, and promptly fell asleep.

She awoke some time later to a gentle caress and encountered Darcy's warm eyes looking into her own, his hand stroking her shoulder softly to wake her. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I'm sorry...," she murmured unnecessarily. "I fell asleep."

"Yes," Darcy offered his arm and drew her off the couch. "And while you were so occupied, Richard and I have decided what is to done."

"Ah," said Elizabeth, raising her brows. "And am I to be consulted in these decisions?"

"Well yes, of course," Darcy assured her, a little too hurriedly. Elizabeth smiled. "Of course. Where is Jaime?"

"He has gone to get a hackney cab. Would you mind very much if I tell you the whole of it in the carriage? I am eager to be out of here, I daresay almost as much as you are, and I would rather we start immediately."

Elizabeth looked trustingly straight up at her protector. "Of course. Let us go."

"Good girl," Darcy led her to the door and disposed her cloak around her shoulders. "When Jaime gives the signal, we go." They stood waiting quietly at the door for some minutes, his arm around her, her hand in his and her head on his chest. Suddenly they heard a glass shattering somewhere down below and a high-pitched voice scolding. "Jaime, you oaf!"

Quickly and silently, Darcy opened the servant's doorway, and looking sharply in all directions, began to descend the stairs, holding Elizabeth's hand tightly. She noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam was not with them, but forbore to inquire until they were safely away.

Navigating the narrow, ill-lit staircase, the fleeing couple almost ran directly into Jaime coming up towards them. Silently, he held up three fingers and motioned westward with his arm. Darcy shook his hand firmly, the gratitude evident in his expression and demeanor, and slipped with his captive into the stableyard.

They crept quietly along the side of the building, dodging lit windows, until finally they were in an alley, and in the street. Striding now confidently down the pavement, they flew down three blocks(?) until Darcy spied a hackney carriage idling in the road. "Evening, Sir," the coachman greeted Mr. Darcy in tones very unlike a cab driver.

"Evening, Phelps, thank you for coming so quickly." Before she had time to blink, Darcy had opened the door, and, not taking the time to roll down the steps, lifted her bodily and bundled her into the carriage. She had just sat back and arranged her skirts when Darcy was already beside her and the carriage rattling down the road.

Both parties exhaled and shared a look of apprehension and relief. "My darling!" Darcy exclaimed on a deep sigh, taking Elizabeth into his arms. She held tightly to his shoulders, tucking herself firmly under his chin, her body pressed against his chest. For only a moment did they indulge in this comfort.

Elizabeth looked up, "The coachman. You know him." It was not a question.

Darcy smiled. "He is my valet."

"Your valet!" Elizabeth exclaimed, "Surely he views such disguise as unsuitably beneath his dignity."

"He was Richard's batman on the Peninsula, until being injured. He is fiercely loyal to both of us and can be trusted implicitly. And town life is rather dull after being used to sieges and battles. I am sure he appreciates the diversion."

Elizabeth managed a small laugh. "Very well then. And where is this loyal soldier taking us?"

"To Grillon's," Darcy stated.

"The Hotel?" Elizabeth exclaimed, surprised. "But I am not fit to be seen! And I have no luggage, no maid! I -"

"Hush, my dear, we have thought of all that. You shall see. The only thing required of you is to gather your courage and play a very convincing part. You have just come down from the country, and your chaise having lost a wheel, were obliged to take a hackney for the rest of your journey. Your luggage coach follows an hour behind you. Presently I will alight, and you will continue to the Hotel on your own."

Elizabeth clutched at him, "Don't leave me!" She begged, "I cannot face anyone, please - "

"You must make up your mind at once, my love, to gather as much strength of purpose as you possibly can. The next few hours determine the course of the rest of your life." He spoke firmly and slowly, with a calculated coolness that inspired her with complete confidence in his words and a certainty that every word was deliberate, correct, and indispensable to her welfare. "If ever you fancied yourself an actress, and I know enough of your character to surmise that you must have taken part in theatricals and play-acting in your youth - you must summon any talent you have for it right now."

Elizabeth straightened her back and mentally prepared herself for something she was certain would be extraordinary. "I will try."

"Good girl," he bent swiftly to kiss her, then took her hands in his and continued. "You will arrive at the hotel with your companion, and hire a room for one night only. It being so late, you felt you could not inconvenience your hosts, who are elderly and retire early. Now, my love," he drew breath and looked to be bracing himself, "when you are in your room the real drama begins. You will refresh yourself and dress for an evening out. Colonel Fitzwilliam will arrive to escort you to Lady Castlereigh's ball."

Elizabeth stared at the man in front of her with as much incredulity as can be supposed. "_I _go to a _ball? _At a peeress's house? When two dozen gentlemen in her circle have just seen me – "

"What can you be thinking of?" Darcy quizzed her. "The woman they saw an hour ago is engaged in entertaining a gentleman at Lady Susan's who paid a fortune for her and will certainly not relinquish her until the morning. Perhaps you resemble her in some aspects, but no lady can be expected to be present in two places at one and the same time. And the vision at Lady Castlereigh's, in fine silk and diamonds, will assume so dignified a bearing that she could hardly be compared to the meek little mouse at Lady Susan's."

Comprehension dawned. "I will look so altered, it will be evident that such a transformation could never be achieved in such a short time." Suddenly she started to laugh. "And, oh, it would never occur to _anyone_ that you would _dare_ foist your mistress upon society in the guise of a lady of Quality! Oh, what a joke!"

But Darcy scowled, "You are never to refer to yourself in that way, Elizabeth! You will be my wife –" he paused as her eyes snapped up to his. "You will, won't you, dearest? You will marry me?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. "How can I?" The animated tone of their conversation ceased abruptly as her voice trembled. "I am fallen below anyone's ability to raise me. Even yours. You cannot marry me."

"Certainly I can," he took her face in his hands and kissed the tears from her cheeks, "and I will. Don't you see? You have not fallen at all. No one saw the unknown Lucy for more than a few minutes. No one knows your real name. You appear in society as Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a gentleman's daughter from Hertfordshire, and everyone accepts it as it should be. Who will doubt you? Who will dare doubt _me_? I sound like a coxcomb, but truly, I have led such a staid and sober existence, no one would dream of my recognizing a woman of less than perfect _ton_, much less introduce her to my sister or make her an offer."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. "But you are recognizing such a woman. A degraded –"

"No!" Darcy's voice was hard with fiery intensity. "You are a virtuous woman, the best and loveliest of my acquaintance, much better than any woman I could ever hope to deserve. _This_ is the woman whom I am introducing to my friends and family. You must believe this, Elizabeth, for it is the truth. And if you are not convinced of it, you will be unable to portray it. Any weakness in your façade, any glimmer of uncertainty, and our whole plan may fail. Do you see that, my dear? Can you bring yourself to do it?"

"I must, mustn't I?" She bit her lip uncertainly. "What if I should meet anyone I have seen earlier this evening? How shall I bear it?"

"I am counting on you meeting several of them, in fact," said Darcy. "Fitzwilliam will ensure that at least two or three are present to make your acquaintance, and you must meet them with a dignity and composure that proves you cannot possibly bear more than a passing resemblance to the woman they met previously. If they look surprised, you must appear nonplussed and amused, for you were never out in London before, and could not possibly have been introduced."

"Oh God, I don't know how I can do it!" She shook her head. "I will certainly blush in mortification. I will betray myself."

Darcy stroked her hands with his. "I once heard a man ask Keane, the Shakespearean actor, how it was that he could portray so many characters, entirely different in temperament, voice, inflection, and bearing – and consecutively. He said simply that he is not acting at all. He _believes_ that he _is_ that person. He _is_ Hamlet, he _is_ Falstaff. You too, my dear, must believe that you are Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Hertfordshire. The events of the past week were a bad dream. For the next hour until you arrive at the Castlereigh's, cast your mind back to Longbourn, and imagine yourself there. Recall all the elegant, ladylike pursuits you were used to, and picture yourself going from there into a carriage, and straight to the hotel. By the time you arrive at the party, you will be in a frame of mind to meet the world as yourself."

"And of course you will not meet me there," Elizabeth realized. "To maintain the impression that you are occupied –" she blushed.

Mr. Darcy put an arm around her waist and took her chin in his hand. "I very much wish that I were so occupied," he murmured, and had just time enough to touch her lips with his own when the carriage came to an abrupt stop.

Casually, and very unlike a man who had been embarrassingly interrupted in the midst of making love in a carriage, Darcy opened the door and stretched out his hand to the waiting figure. The door closed, the carriage moved on, and the new arrival lowered her hood to reveal the face of a kind, older woman.

"Elizabeth, this is Mrs. Annesley, my sister's companion," said Darcy, making the introductions. "She will be your duenna for this evening. She knows exactly what is to be done, and is to be trusted completely."

Another jolt, and the carriage stopped again. Darcy jumped down lightly and turned back to Elizabeth, leaning towards him with an anxious expression. He took her outstretched hand and kissed it warmly. "Take care of my affianced wife," he said with a look to Mrs. Annesley, closed the carriage door, and disappeared into the London night.

* * *

_A/N: The delay is inexcusable.  
For my dear fans and reviewers – this is for you.  
I'm not saying that I write for reviews, but I am totally saying that one of the reasons I do this is for the high I get from reviews.  
If you think that's a paradox, try this: I love critical reviews too.  
Thank you, and you're welcome :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Recap: The previous chapter ended with Elizabeth in a hackney headed for a hotel:_

_Another jolt, and the carriage stopped again. Darcy jumped down lightly and turned back to Elizabeth, leaning towards him with an anxious expression. He took her outstretched hand and kissed it warmly. "Take care of my affianced wife," he said with a look to Mrs. Annesley, closed the carriage door, and disappeared into the London night._

* * *

Elizabeth stood in the center of Grillon's entrance hall, elegantly removing her gloves while looking around her in a manner any young lady could be supposed to assume upon seeing the famous hotel for the first time. Which in fact she was.

The maître de, a white-haired gentleman of subdued and quick competence, hurried over to her. "May I be of assistance, madam?"

"Oh yes," Elizabeth smiled at him, "I require a room for the night, and accommodation for my abigail. My carriage broke down just outside of London, and I was forced to take a hackney the rest of the way. So terribly inconvenient, especially since I am due at the Castlereagh's tonight, and I arrived too late to impose upon my great aunt, who keeps very early hours. I shall stay the night here and continue on to her tomorrow – oh, but I am prattling – excuse me! It is my first time out in London, you see!"

"Indeed, madam," the butler-like individual smiled slightly. He coughed discreetly, "Your luggage?"

"Oh yes! This is all I had with me," she gestured to Mrs. Annesley, "Maud will be glad of assistance with it. The rest of our luggage follows behind us in the baggage coach and should be here presently."

"Just so," he intoned patronizingly. "If you would please follow me?"

* * *

Sinking onto a chaise longue in her room, Elizabeth heaved a great shuddering sigh.

Mrs. Annesley bustled over to her. "You did marvelously, my dear," she smiled encouragingly. "Just as the master ordered. He would be proud."

Elizabeth blushed, "Has he… has Mr. Darcy disclosed to you the whole of the situation?"

"I am aware of the whole, yes," said Mrs. Annesley kindly. "A messenger summoned Mr. Phelps, who received instructions from the master. He then relayed them to me. Other than the two of us, no one in the house knows a thing, nor will they."

"How can you stand taking part in this deception?" Elizabeth buried her face in her hands, "What you must think of me!"

The reply Elizabeth dreaded to hear was prevented by a knock at the door. Madam's luggage had caught up with her, as expected, an hour after her own arrival, and the trunks and cases were brought into the room. After tipping the hall-boy and closing the door, Elizabeth directed a questioning glance at her companion.

"Miss Georgiana's." Mrs. Annesley explained, but offered no elaboration, preferring instead to answer her charge's more pressing concern. She sat down beside her and took Elizabeth's hands into her own. "I was a teacher at a school for young girls for many years before you were ever born. And I have been a governess and companion in the many years since. I know young women – and I was once one myself. From everything I was told, you have behaved admirably in the most unendurable of situations, and maintained your dignity and reputation throughout in a manner worthy of respect and admiration. I am honored to be entrusted with your welfare for this evening, and look forward to the day I can serve you more permanently when you are my mistress."

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears, "Oh, Mrs. Annesley, how kind you are! You almost give me leave to believe well of myself again! How shall I ever repay you?"

"You may begin," smiled Mrs. Annesley, "by dressing for this ball. I have never been to such an affair before, and it is as much my debut as yours. Now, the sooner you dress, the sooner I can have this one magical night."

* * *

Dressed in a stiff white silk gown of Georgiana's, hair coiffed expertly by Mrs. Annesley in the very becoming style a la Grecque, Elizabeth observed herself in the vanity mirror. Mrs. Annesley crouched at her feet, rapidly hemming the gown which was made to reach the floor when worn by the tall Miss Darcy. The bodice too was made to fit a slighter figure and sat rather too snugly around Elizabeth's bosom, but a modified lacing of the tapes of the gown, together with a strategically placed fichu, served to display Elizabeth's figure to added advantage.

Mrs. Annesley had given Elizabeth two dainty diamond earrings and affixed a diamond bracelet over her long white gloves. A single diamond pendant, a silk reticule and a painted chicken-skin fan completed her ensemble.

"Might not the women recognize the jewelry as belonging to Miss Darcy?" Elizabeth worried.

"Oh, but she isn't out yet," Mrs. Annesley reassured her, "so no one will have seen her wearing them."

What a lifetime has taken place in this one evening, thought Elizabeth. I began thinking I would lose my virtue, then was rescued from ignominy, became engaged to the man I love, and stand here bedecked in thousands of pounds of diamonds preparing to head to a ball together with Duchesses and Countesses. She laughed out loud.

"Now then, my dear," said Mrs. Annesley, eyeing her curiously while completing her own toilette, "shall we go?"

* * *

Elizabeth's carriage was caught in a long line of vehicles making their way to the Castlereagh's brightly-lit townhouse, but she did not chafe at the delay. As each carriage disgorged its elite passengers and the queue inched joltingly forward, Elizabeth mentally prepared herself. She did not dwell, as a weaker woman might, on the ordeal ahead of her or the mortification she would certainly experience and most likely be betrayed into revealing. Considering Darcy's advice and agreeing it was sound, she spent the time thinking in vivid detail on her home life in Hertfordshire. She pictured herself strolling to Meryton with her sisters, chatting and laughing with her neighbors at dinner parties, whispering with Jane in their shared bed in the evenings. In her mind's eye she chided Mary for occupying the pianoforte, squabbled reluctantly with Kitty over ribbons with as much dignity as an older sister can be expected to do, and consoled her mother with hartshorn and comforting speech after a not-infrequent fit of the poor widow's vapours. Mrs. Annesley watched in amused silence as Elizabeth's eyes stared unseeing at the wall of the carriage, emotions and expression flitting across her features as she placed herself in memories of home, of dignity and respectability. When the final jolt came and a groom let down the steps, Elizabeth looked up with just the kind of excited anxiety any young woman would have expressed at the start of her first London ball.

Their arrival was timed with deliberation. It was still an hour when fashionables were first arriving, yet late enough that the hosts were no longer standing to receive guests at the top of the stairs. No awkward introductions or explanations need be proffered then; they would simply slip into the ballroom as though they were expected. Elizabeth handed her cloak and muff to a waiting footman and mounted the stairs with trepidation. _I am a gentlewoman from the country, attending my first season, my first ball. I am enchanted, delighted, looking forward to a glorious month of gaiety and society. How much I shall have to write home about! How my mother and sisters will enjoy every detail of my experiences!_ A heavy, unwelcome thought ambled across her mind – _Lydia will not read my news, she is disgraced, as am I, and – NO._ She stopped herself and vowed every foreign thought out of her mind until the evening was over. _There will be time and more to think of everything else. Right now, I shall think of the past only as its remembrance brings me pleasure. In such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. _She turned to Mrs. Annesley and smiled. "My first London ball! It is so dreadfully exciting! Nothing at all to assemblies and balls in Hertfordshire!"

The two women took up a position at one end of the room, fanning themselves slowly against the heat of the overcrowded ballroom. As Elizabeth watched the occupants of the room, dancing, talking, bowing, and laughing, she caught a few interested and appreciative male glances, as well as curious female looks, and wondered how she was to be introduced to anyone. She knew no one there, and as for the usual method of strangers approaching her chaperone for an introduction, that was impossible as well, considering Mrs. Annesley intended to pass the night without anyone realizing who she really was.

But the discomfort of her untenable position as a wallflower was greatly superseded by the ordeal that came to release her from it. She spotted Colonel Fitzwilliam as he entered the ballroom, his bright regimentals immediately drawing her eye in a room of mostly soberly-clad gentlemen. With him were several other young men, two of whom she recognized from Lady Susan's. Despite her preparation, a flush mounted to her cheeks. The Colonel, observing this, engaged his companions in conversation to give Elizabeth some time to compose herself. Then, judging her to have had sufficient time to bring herself under good regulation, gave a convincing start of recognition, and herded his posse over to her end of the hall.

"My very dear Miss Bennet!" he exclaimed, bowing over her hand. "How extraordinary to meet you here! What a lovely surprise!" He turned to his companions to make the introductions. "I had the felicity of meeting Miss Elizabeth Bennet at my aunt Catherine's last Spring. You can readily believe that Miss Bennet greatly alleviated the tedious drudgery of my yearly visit to Rosings Park!" He turned to present his friends, two of whom stood gaping. Elizabeth smiled at each and curtseyed, exchanging the very short kinds of remarks inherent in such an occasion. Lord Brandon and Sir Gareth, however, did not offer any pleasantries or make any effort to raise their jaws off the floor. They exchanged baffled glances and gawped at the woman before them, who casually avoided their eyes. Just as Sir Gareth seemed to be collecting himself for speech, Colonel Fitzwilliam made a strategic maneuver and removed Elizabeth from the crowd.

"Now I shall steal a march on all my envious friends," he said with a wink at these gentlemen, "by soliciting your hand for the next set, Miss Bennet! They may gnash their teeth and wait their turn!" Laughing together, they made their way into the set then forming, leaving half a dozen gentlemen to gaze after them, several with interest, one with undisguised longing, and two with exceeding surprise and suspicion.

The two conspirators took their places in a dance that was thankfully staid enough to allow for conversation and kept the principal partners mostly in each other's company. "Miss Bennet," the Colonel said appreciatively, "you are truly a marvel! To begin with, you look exquisite, and may honestly believe the many compliments that are shortly to be assiduously paid to you all evening! But superseding that is your poise, your air – you are just exactly the woman I met in Kent!"

Elizabeth released a shuddering laugh. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, if you had not removed me when you did, I would have given myself up! Did you see those two – I forget their names – eyes starting out of their heads! I declare I needed no reminders to keep myself in a cheerful attitude – I thought I would burst with laughter!"

"Lord, yes," the Colonel agreed, "they were stunned, but I don't fear they are suspicious. Will you be able to dance with one or both of them, do you think?"

"I shall certainly try, if they ask me."

"Oh, they will," smiled the Colonel. "But first let me arm you with the rest of your story –"

* * *

The gentlemen at the perimeter of the room watched the dancing couple laughing and conversing like old friends.

"Quite a pretty thing," said one Mr. Hamilton, "but not in the first blush of her youth, I wouldn't think. I wonder why she never came out till now?"

"Pretty?" objected the youngest of the group, Lord Sherringham, "She's beautiful! Those eyes! That figure!"

"Never mind that," interrupted Sir Gareth in a stage whisper, as we have been waiting for him to do, "She's the spitting image of a doxy we saw tonight at Lady Susan's!"

This pronouncement was met with stunned silence and the swiveling of every head in his party towards him. "What?!" One of them finally ejaculated.

"It's true enough," admitted Lord Brandon. "I was there as well. Not two hours since, Lady Susan brought out a new chit, fresh from the country, and auctioned off her virtue. If I didn't know any better, I would think I had just met her again."

Sherringham stared. "Surely not! A respectable young woman!"

"Well of course not," spat Lord Brandon. "But the resemblance is so uncanny as to be positively disturbing. How am I to speak to her, or ask her to dance, while maintaining my composure?"

A Mr. Carleton brought the conversation back. "But you've left out the material point, Gareth," he chided his friend. "Who won the little jade?"

Sir Gareth's humor returned at this and his eyes lit up. "Oh, that was the best of all – Darcy bought her outright! Yes, staid old Darcy! Fotherby was needling up the price and Darcy flat out snuffed him by offering one _thousand_ pounds! Did you ever hear of such a thing?"

"Never!" "The devil you say!" The whispering group of gentlemen reverted to a pack of gossiping old women whose circle was dispersed by the return of Colonel Fitzwilliam and his laughing partner. A blushing Lord Sherringham immediately stammered out a request to lead Miss Bennet into the next set, and was accepted. Colonel Fitzwilliam then took his place among the men.

Brandon started in on him directly, "Fitzwilliam, surely you marked the exceptional resemblance between your Miss Bennet and… another woman we were introduced to earlier this evening?"

Every eye lay on him expectantly, and the colonel did not disappoint. "Lord yes!" he laughed, "But wait until you hear the whole of it!" He led them a little to the side, saying, "I wouldn't want her dragon of a chaperone to hear what I have to say!" he glanced in Mrs. Annesley's direction, and saw some of his companions' faces blanche in horror to think she may have overheard them. But that woman was looking at her charge, smiling and slowly waving her fan as though having a perfectly splendid evening.

Colonel Fitzwilliam started in on his story. "Like all of us, I thought Darcy's behavior earlier tonight completely out of character, and was at a loss. But as soon as I saw Miss Bennet tonight I pieced it together! I met her in Kent, you know, at my aunt Catherine's. I go there every year with Darcy to make a survey of the estate. Miss Bennet was staying with her friend, who had recently married my aunt's parson. But though it was my first meeting with her, it was not Darcy's. He had lived for over a month not two miles from her home in Hertfordshire the previous Autumn, when accompanying Bingley in his search for a property. Yes, you know the fellow – tall, ginger, always smiling? – in any event, I could see at once in Kent that Darce had it bad for her. I teased and goaded him a bit, and he came to the point – he proposed to Miss Bennet before two weeks were out."

He paused at this juncture, to invite the inevitable exclamation, which came from Hamilton. "Do you mean to say that she _refused_ and offer of _marriage_ from _Darcy_?!"

The colonel's grin threatened to split his face in two. "Precisely so, old chap."

"Impossible," Brandon ejected. "Is she a great heiress?"

"No, quite indigent, apparently."

"Is her heart engaged elsewhere?"

"There has been no indication to that end."

"Then what in heaven ails her!" Erupted Lord Brandon. "Any of the unmarried women in this room would claw her eyes out if they knew she's refused the chance they can only dream of! And half the married women too, I shouldn't wonder," he added, smirking.

"I believe she objected to the manner of the proposal," Colonel Fitzwilliam confided quietly. "You know Darcy is no great flirt. He must have made a terrible mull of it. Well, he's been eating his heart out ever since, drinking to excess, shirking company – exactly the sort of lovesick fool he would scorn to resemble. I won't pretend I haven't been enjoying it, seeing the tables turned and my exemplary cousin taken down a peg or two, but it was beginning to pall. And then tonight, when that little tart walked into Lady Susan's, I started, thinking she resembled someone I knew, and that must be what drew Darcy to her as well. He must have reasoned that if he can't have the principal, he may as well acquire the imitation. I do hope he wears himself out with her and can move past this besotted passion. You can see Miss Bennet is certainly not wearing the willow for him."

"Oh lord," Brandon's eyes lit up with glee. "Wait until I mention to him casually tomorrow that I met a woman of his acquaintance! How I shall enjoy the look on his face!"

"No, Brandon, you will not go without me," Sir Gareth grabbed him by the arm. "I must be there to see it!"

"And I!" Hamilton added, laughing. "'Tis better than a farce! To think he missed her tonight because he was occupied with a whore in her image!"

* * *

Miss Bennet, in the meantime, was terribly grateful to have been solicited to dance by a gentleman who was not at the scene of her earlier London appearance, and moreover, who was so blushingly shy and admiring, that it took all of her resources to keep him conversing and at his ease. The effect was that Elizabeth spent a blissful half-hour not dwelling on her fears or the act required to brave them, and Lord Sheringham emerged giddy and smitten, already planning the posy he would deliver to the lovely Miss Bennet in person the next day.

He led Elizabeth back to the group upon whose improved aspect she immediately commented. "Why gentlemen, you are certainly in better spirits than when I left you last." Several sets of appreciative eyes noted the color in her cheeks and the heaving in her chest as a result of the vigorous country dance. More than one of them speculated on the likely similar nature of her twin's appearance under the vigorous attentions of their absent friend.

Lord Brandon was the one to respond, and received Gareth's elbow in his side for his pains. "Colonel Fitzwilliam was just commiserating on his cousin's plight, after they both met you in Kent last April."

Elizabeth blushed in earnest, but turned it to her advantage by casting Colonel Fitzwilliam a reproachful look and saying, "I doubt the gentleman would appreciate his private affairs being spoken of." And then she bravely fixed Lord Brandon with a determined look before adding, "and neither do I."

But the rogue was insistent. "Generally I would agree with you and desist, but you must realize this is the best on-dit to be had this season! And to have the opportunity of hearing the facts directly from the party most nearly involved! Surely you would prefer the true story circulate rather than the fanciful bouncers that spring from misinformation and conjecture? Do tell us, please, my dear Miss Bennet, what could possibly induce you to refuse our exemplary friend Darcy's very flattering proposal?"

At first Elizabeth kept her face aloof and displeased, but then glanced at Fitzwilliam and allowed a dimple and gurgle of laughter to peek through. "Well, alright, since you already know the whole of it! But mind, you never heard this from me!" She made a circular gesture with her closed fan to have the gentlemen lean in closer, before whispering, "If you had heard the manner of his declaration, you would have sent him about his business with even more force than I!"

"Did you really?" Mr. Carleton's eyes lit up. "What did you say?"

"Oh, I hurled accusations at him, said he was no gentleman, and upon his attempt to restate his case, said there was no way he could have made his offer in a way that would tempt me to accept it! He said –"

The tightly-knit group hung on her every word, interjected, laughed, disbelieved, and applauded, and were well along their way to a solid friendship when Elizabeth happened to look round, happened to meet the eye of a newcomer to the ballroom, and the deed was done. An exclamation broke out from the elderly, painted and bewigged gentleman, which at once stopped all other sound and action in the great room, and fixed all eyes on the woman whom he addressed.

"You!" Tore from the contorted features of the lately rejected Lord Fotherby as he pointed at Elizabeth. "You bitch!"

* * *

_A/N: I'm not sure why you bear with me, when I absent myself for a year, but thank you for the reviews and encouragement. It brought me back._

_I do want to finish this story, but am not sure there's more than maybe 1 chapter left in it. I hate dragging out angst and drama for no reason. If any of you has an idea of what should happen next, please let me know ;)_

_Thank you, my darlings._


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